The Here + Now.

Dear Reader,

            There’s something special about today.

            Do you ever just wake up with that feeling? I do. When you roll out of bed, trip over a string of Christmas lights, look in the mirror and try to manage your dreadful morning hair, and still somehow have this sense that it’s going to be a good day. A God-day.

            I mean, yes, it’s the middle of March… Yesterday it was 80 degrees here and this morning there was ice on my car windshield. I just finished a delightful cup of ivory hot chocolate at my favorite downtown coffee shop, and am currently watching two men play a very intense game of chess.

            But I don’t think that’s it.

            And the more I think about it, the more I realize that it’s not the dreary weather or my hot drink or the succulent arrangement on this table that are making today what it is.

            It’s me. It’s you. It’s an utter realization of the present and yet eternal thing in your soul that makes you who you are. Somehow, in his crazy grace, God took me- shattered, with my messy hair and messier life, and wiped my tears. He showed me the grim reality of who I was, exposing all the dirt and pain… then flipped it all around and guided me a step closer to who He’s calling me to be. And He does the same for you. Look for it. Don’t miss it.

            So kneel. Feel that grace. Let it wash over you like sunshine through a spring window. Let our Savior refresh you every morning with His love and the promise that He has a plan for you, today and every day.

            And don’t rush it. Rest in Him. Rest from the busy, rest from the pressure, the pain, the stress, whatever is on your heart. Allow Him to cleanse you of the world’s dust, and don’t hold onto it. Release your clenched fists and let Him gently wipe it all away.

            Spring is here- fresh, new, bright and clean… full of promise. Have you let it come in your soul, too?

“I come in simplicity,

longing for purity,

to worship You

in spirit and truth,

only You.”

-Simplicity, Rend Collective

Until next time,

            Brooklyn

Abide.

Dear Reader,

            I always loved summer camp. I was that crazy kid who tied a bandana around her renegade blonde hair, painted her face like a football player, and got so into the games that my counselor was presumably suspicious that I really had anger issues. So as I was balancing my checkbook a couple of months ago and realizing that I was going to need a summer job if I want to eat next year, the idea of being a camp counselor kept slipping back into my mind. After arguing with myself for a while as to why this was an impractical idea, I finally turned in my application last week.

            Now, I’m out-of-my-head excited. I can’t wait to see how God grows me as I reach out to the kiddos I come in contact with. (Of course, that’s assuming that I get the job). I’m ready to pack my bags tomorrow, if that were an option, and get out of here. I mean, really, why isn’t it June yet?

            Because right now, it’s November, in the middle of my first semester of college classes. My nose has been to the grindstone for almost four months now, and I’m tired. Don’t get me wrong, I love it here, but just like always, I get bored. “If we can just make it through to Saturday,” I say to myself, “Everything will be good. If I am just patient until Christmas break… If I can only hold off until track season…”

            What do I get from all this rushing around to make the ever-inflexible time bend to my will? Nothing but a headache and an extra dose of frustration. I’ve always liked to have my hands in every little aspect of everything (yes, this includes the cookie dough when I was baking this weekend), but I often end up running into the point when me, on my own, isn’t enough.

            Jesus has an answer for us Type-A personalities, doesn’t he? Our striving, our go-getting, our passionate motivation, will always fall short. We need our Creator to pick us up, dust us off, and lead us by the hand.

            Abide in me, Jesus says softly. He is all we need. In the present moment and every subsequent one, we require nothing more and nothing less than the absolute presence of the Holy Spirit in our daily lives. It’s not about wishing for something better in the future, it’s about letting Him make the present all He has planned for it to be.

            So let Him carry you. He is your sustenance, your every breath. When you can say that it truly is “well with my soul”, it’s the most beautiful place.

            It’s a God-written place.

"So let go, my soul, and trust in Him,

the waves and wind still know his name..."

-It Is Well, Bethel Music

          

           See? We have nothing to fear. God's got you, beautiful. Just like He's got me. And over and over, He has shown that He is good.

           So let go. Trust Him.

           Simply abide.

Until next time,

           Brooklyn

Superheroes.

I remember sometime during seventh grade, I was introduced by a good friend to the Percy Jackson book series. The moment I flipped open that metallic silver cover, I was hooked. (For those of you who have not indulged in any of Rick Riordan’s writings, I highly recommend all of it.) From then on, I read everything science fiction and fantasy related that I could get my hands on. Devouring everything from medieval fantasy to space adventure novels gave my highly overactive imagination something to play with.

In middle school, I became fascinated with the idea of being a hero. In almost all of the books I read, the protagonist started out as an average kid (sometimes even a below-average kid) and, through a series of impractical and wonderful events, they would discover their true identity- that they were secretly related to ancient Greek deities, for example. And naturally, these young, unlikely heroes wouldn’t be anything without an awesome tool, ability, or power. Some boasted magical skills, or maybe an enchanted sword or flying horse made the list.

All of these heroes shared certain character traits that always stood out to me. At the beginning of the story, they were unsure of themselves. They were thrown into a violently unfamiliar situation (and sometimes an unfamiliar world), but soon enough, often through the wise counsel of others, as well as simple practical experience, they truly came into themselves. They grew in confidence, and their skills were honed and enhanced until these seemingly weak, average kids became a true force to be reckoned with.

I know I wasn’t alone in my love for these guys. Everything from Disney movies to fantasy novels have captured the attention of kids around the globe for a very long time. Unfortunately, despite my fondest desires, heroes (in the magical, fantastic sense of the word) simply don’t exist. I think, however, that kids today could benefit from a few more real-life stories. We don’t need a superpower to be used by the One who made us.

You are strong.

You are talented.

You are enough.

These are the things that kids need to hear. Because when we’re trained to look for fulfillment in worldly things, even as innocent as they may seem, these habits often aren’t broken as we grow older. It becomes easier and easier to raise a generation of unfulfilled, under-confident young people who expect their sports victories, good grades, and relationships to be enough to sustain them.

And you know what? Something on that list is always going to fall short. I’ll give you a hint- it’s you. With as much emphasis as we often put on our successes, more often than not, they won’t fulfill our wildest dreams. Life isn’t perfect, but we love and serve a God who is.

So yeah, maybe I still want to be a superhero. Even though I don’t have a flying horse to ride into battle or a magic sword made for slicing up monsters, I’ve got one thing in common with my favorite heroes. I know who I am. I’m confident in the abilities that I was given, and I’m learning to use my gifts for the advancement of the greater glory of my King.

So bring it on, life. I may not look like a whole lot, but if my cause is the cause of the Lord, I can’t fail. One of my favorite Bible heroines, Esther, heard it this way:

“…Perhaps you were born for such a time as this.”

            -Esther 4:14

The way I read it, that means today. Right now. Not tomorrow, not when I get off Facebook, not after I graduate high school. You’re looking for your purpose? Well, here it is. Serve your God, and you won’t be disappointed with where He leads you.

Until next time,

            Brooklyn

Patience, My Darling.

Dear Reader:

            I am not a naturally patient person.

            Nearly everyone you talk to will tell you that. Honestly, who wants to wait for something they really want? It’s not fun. Ever since we were little kids, we’ve been a part of an “I WANT IT NOW” society. If you think about it, it’s what we’re raised to believe. Surely, if we have the latest model of phone or car, the nicest house, the most friends, then happiness and fulfillment will be ours, and it will happen instantaneously.

            Except… that anybody who has lived for more than twenty-four hours will agree with me that, unfortunately, it’s not that easy. Life is hard, confusing, and stressful. Sometimes, we set our gaze on a certain dream and the rug gets yanked out from under our feet. We don’t like to step back and trust God’s timing, do we? But ultimately, his perfect plan will be fulfilled for our lives. We can either go kicking and screaming, or we can take a deep breath, shake off our feelings of self-doubt and frustration, and take our Lord’s hand, to let him lead us.

            Like I said, I’m not patient, though. Sometimes it hurts to watch our closest friends grow up, to mature and be given things for which we are still waiting. We feel slighted, put out, and left behind. It’s frustrating, and it threatens to make us bitter and jealous. But for every opportunity that passes by us, God has something so much more beautiful in mind.

            Have you ever watched a preschool class wait in line? There is no concept of “taking turns”. The kiddos can’t seem to understand that everyone will get their chance, and it will go much more smoothly if they can just have a little patience. They all whine and push and shove, and the whole situation becomes chaos.

            But you know what? Sometimes it simply isn’t our turn. We lose the championship. We miss catching the bouquet at a friend’s wedding. A flight is cancelled. A letter never comes. We’re stuck on the near side of an experience we’ve dreamed about, with no way in our own power to make it happen.

            My best friend beautifully portrayed the concept:

“Someone close to your heart crosses a bridge

It's not time for you to follow.

Do you ask them to come back and visit,

Or do you let them go?

Do they want you to help them along,

Or do they need to break free and start down a new path alone?

How do you know?

Is it time to say goodbye,

At least partially? 

Or is it time for hello,

We've got so much more ahead?

You want what's best for them,

You want to help them with life on the other side of the bridge.

Is that by letting go,

Or is it by promising you'll reach across and hold on?

How do you know?

Someone you hold close crosses a bridge.

It's not your turn to go.

Does it hurt because part of your heart goes with them? 

Or because you know,

That part has to stay behind?”

            So we’re still on this side of the bridge. Maybe it’s in a relationship that you wish could be so much more. Or possibly you’re just not quite old enough to fulfill a dream. Here, on this side, we have two options. Either we can sit on the side and pout because we are where we are, or we can shake off the impatience and make the best of right now. God knows what he’s doing. And when it’s your turn, the way across the bridge will be clear. It might not be easy, but it will be open.

            So until then, have patience, my darling.

           

Until next time,

                        Brooklyn

Summer Love.

Dear Reader-

            I sincerely believe that no season will ever completely lose its charm for me. Just about that time in August when I’m certain that I’ll die of heat stroke, it starts to feel like sweater weather, and when I’m convinced that the sub-zero wind chill is going to give me hypothermia the next time I walk out the door, God brings the gracious thaw.

            Naturally, I complain right along with the rest of our farming community: when it doesn’t rain, it’s much too dry, but when it finally does, it came at the wrong time and everyone’s crops are ruined. Ah, I love the Midwest.

            I’m learning, though, to find beauty in every season- not just spring, summer, fall and winter, either. But let’s begin with the beginning.

            For as long as I can remember, summer has always meant freedom to me. All of us kids were released to ride bikes or horses, go to the pool, have friends over IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WEEK (gasp) and just generally be kids. It was wonderful.

            By the time we hit middle school, though, things started to change a little. Most of the boys my age were helping their families with harvest, so we didn’t see much of them anymore (which of course was fine because who wants those boy cooties anyway?) The highlight of my summer became the week I spent at church camp each year. I could write a whole novel on how much I loved church camp, but I’ll spare you the details. Whatever your version of classic summer camp is in your imagination, it was that, and I soaked in every moment of it.

            Our high school years brought even more changes for my friends and me. Our version of summer fun became more about being social than entertaining ourselves, and our community provided plenty of opportunities for that. Everything from a weekly city band performance to a friend’s baseball game was made into a social engagement. Typically, after events like this, we would go to Sonic for half-price shakes (after 8 pm, an excellent deal for students with limited funds), or to the local snow-cone shop.

            The title of this post, though, is two-fold. I love summer, yes. But another thing that adds to the charm for me is that nearly every wedding I’ve been to has been held in June, July, or August. This past weekend, I attended the marriage of one of the “Big Girls” from my childhood. Be honest- you can relate. When you were six years old, you looked up at that middle school girl and desperately aspired to be like her. My friend was married to a wonderful man in our home church, and the reception was held at a stunning location just outside our town.

            Perched on the low stone wall that curved around the outdoor dance floor, watching the young couples as the evening light faded to gold, the reality of it hit me. It goes fast. People will tell you that time flies, and we’ll continue to dismiss the concept with a wave of the hand. But when you look back in the realization that your childhood is gone… It’s a bit sobering.

            But when you’re at a wedding, joy follows closely on the heels of solemnity. Before I knew it, my friends and I were up and line dancing to “Copperhead Road” till our feet were sore and our sides hurt from laughter. Growing up means a lot of changes, but you never know what God has in store around each corner. And whether it’s line dancing with my best friends or one day (prayerfully) a slow song with my beloved, I’ll keep dancing.

            Rain or shine, come wind or tears or heartbreak, that’s where I’ll be- lost somewhere deep in this incredibly intricate, beautifully choreographed dance that my Savior has written out for me. I can’t see it all now, and maybe I never will. But I’m trusting that the One who chose the steps and wrote the music sees the whole picture.

“I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,

Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,

Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance,

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance…

Dance.... I hope you dance.”

-I Hope You Dance, Lee Ann Womack

Until next time,

                        Brooklyn